


(I can't pretend like you) He was no Father to me

by komkommertijd



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Jos Verstappen's A+ Parenting, Love, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:28:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23519977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/komkommertijd/pseuds/komkommertijd
Summary: Why didn't you leave?Max hates hearing those words, he's heard them a million times before, in so many variations and neither he nor his mom have ever found an answer to that question. He remembers smiling with pain in his eyes when Daniel's mother asked him about it and all he could do was stare at his dinner plate and shrug in reply.It's not that easy, but people never seem to understand that.
Relationships: Daniel Ricciardo/Max Verstappen
Comments: 4
Kudos: 54





	(I can't pretend like you) He was no Father to me

**Author's Note:**

> Guess who's back :))
> 
> I don't know whether this can be considered as some heavier content because it's 3 am and my brain really doesn't know what I produced here.
> 
> Most of this is based, once again and as usual, on my own pain (wow, that sounds sad). Except I'm single and some parts of the conversation never happened in real life :")
> 
> Anyway, I hope you will enjoy this regardless of how bad it may be (the topic and, well, my writing) and I'm so thankful for everyone who reads this, it means a lot to me.
> 
> (The title is from [House of the Rising Sun](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J6AOKf3p_dQ) by alt-J and Tuka because I love the Thundamentals, thanks.)

It's 8:12 pm. Max knows that because he's trying to focus on the screen of his phone. He's holding onto it tightly, his knuckles are slowly turning white around the plastic. It's quiet in the living room and he can hear his blood rushing in his ears. The air is unbelievably tight and only when the door opens and his father leaves the room without another word Max is able to breathe again. His phone vibrates between his fingers and it's almost embarrassing how fast he taps on the chat.

On top of the screen is a simple phone number, one that Max has memorized so well by now. He doesn't dare to save Daniel's contact with a cute nickname and hearts like his peers would, too scared of his father seeing it and realizing that his son has failed him once again.

He feels guilty whenever he leans his head against Dan's shoulder and lazily watches him scrolling through his phone, when his eyes catch their chat pinned to the top of the list and the tiny blue heart next to the _baby_. He feels guilty and yet Daniel kisses his cheek and calls him smart for the disguise.

Max listens carefully and counts the stairs when his father moves through the house. He gets up from the dinner table when he hears the bedroom door closes. The anxiety from the quiet meal is still sitting in his stomach so he turns the phone off and gets up from the chair he has to sit on every day with his head low and dying to speak, to say something, anything to ease the tension, to make some tea.

It's so different from what normal families are supposed to be like, so different from what having dinner at Daniel's feels like, where they joke and laugh at the table and talk about their days. He sighs quietly and listens to the water boiling for his tea. Max is scared that it might be too loud but he can't exactly do anything about the noise so he simply presses his eyelids together as hard as he can while he waits for the boiler to finish.

It is only when the quiet clicking noise ends the process and he can finally pour the water into his favorite mug that he notices the lonely glass on the dinner table, filled with water and untouched. He knows who the glass belongs to, so instead of pouring it down the drain he carefully picks it up and takes it upstairs with him. 

His mother is sitting on the bathroom floor and she's quietly talking on the phone when Max sits down next to her and carefully hands her the glass. She looks up from where she was staring at the floor, smiles tiredly at Max and ruffles his hair. He can't quite make out who the voice on the other side of the phone belongs to, so he stays silent and places his phone and his mug on the floor, right next to him.

“I know, I'm sorry. I just didn't know what to do so I accepted it. I didn't want to come up with a story every time to cover up that I'm spending time with my friends. I don't know why I let him do that.”

Max's stomach sinks at the words because he suddenly recognizes the voice. It's a male one, his mom's best friend. He tries to think back to when he visited them with his daughter a few years back. He remembers chasing the two younger girls around in the backyard. They had a barbecue that day and the friend was not allowed to visit them anymore afterward. His father didn't want Max's mom to spend time with that friend anymore, arguing that he's a bad influence for the kids. He remembers coming up with lies to avoid his father from finding out about his mom going to the cinema or to a nice restaurant with that friend once in a while. He's not too fond of his mom's best friend, but he tolerates him and feels bad about the circumstances their friendship has to endure.

_Why didn't you leave?_

Max hates hearing those words, he's heard them a million times before, in so many variations and neither he nor his mom have ever found an answer to that question. He remembers smiling with pain in his eyes when Daniel's mother asked him about it and all he could do was stare at his dinner plate and shrug in reply.

It's not that easy, but people never seem to understand that. 

“James, I was pregnant.”

It shouldn't hurt like it does, because it is not the first time that Max hears this. He usually doesn't think about it too hard, it's not a big deal after all, but in this exact moment, it feels like someone is stabbing him in the heart. Maybe because his mom's friend is, well, a friend and not a relative, someone who doesn't know the story already, someone who could just walk out of their lives and take that piece of information with them.

“When I found out... I didn't know what to do. Three months, James. We thought that it was a stomach ulster for three months. When I got the news, I really didn't know what to do. I didn't- I mean, I wanted a child but not- there's a difference between choosing a good person to be with and choosing a good person to be a parent of your child, you know?”

There's silence and Max shifts on the floor, pulls his knees up to his chest and reaches for his mug to busy himself with drinking the hot beverage, hoping that it can offer him some comfort and calm his nerves. His mother laughs, but it's not her happy laugh he's used to, the one he hears when Victoria tells a bad joke or when he makes a dry comment. He's even heard it before when Daniel introduced himself to Max's mother and managed to embarrass his boyfriend in a matter of seconds and it's weird that he can't smile at the memory now. 

“I sat there in the doctor's office and the first thought I had was literally “fuck it, I can raise a child on my own” but I would have felt bad for keeping that to myself. And obviously, the only option to deal with that was marriage.”

Max puts the mug back down and rests his head on his knees, forehead pressed against them and he presses his fingernails into his thighs to keep his tears back. They are already burning in his eyes and he knows exactly that his thoughts are stupid, which makes the entire thing just worse.

It's his fault that his mom married his father. It's his fault that his mother has to feel this bad and worry about so many things she shouldn't be thinking about at all. It's his fault because he just had to ruin everything.

Max knows that it's really not his fault because he didn't exactly choose to exist. He breathes through it and stays quiet. He can still call Daniel and talk about the mess in his brain late. It's going to be okay.

He closes his eyes and tries to make out the words James is saying but he gives up soon enough and plays with the string of the teabag, watching his phone laying on the pale floor tiles of the bathroom. Max doesn't want to leave his mom alone right now, not even for the stupid selfies Daniel keeps sending him on Snapchat. James is still talking when Max's mom takes a sip of her water. It feels like a glimpse of hope.

“Yeah, I know. That's what Max already told me when he was twelve. He said “mom, you still have other friends”, he's known it all along.”

He smiles and picks the mug back up, sips the herbal tea quietly and lets the now almost lukewarm water run down his throat. Somehow it helps Max to clear his thoughts a little. The screen of his phone lights up again, he bites his lip when the _Daniel Y11_ appears next to the little ghost icon and feels bad for his mother.

Max's thoughts keep circling around the inevitable.

It's all because of him. There would be no tears and no fighting and his mother wouldn't have to call her friend in the bathroom and sleep in the guest's room if it wasn't for Max being born. It would all be okay and his mother could have the four children she always wanted with someone else who truly loved her if it wasn't for the mistake that is Max. He scratches his knee and swallows the lump in his throat down with some tea.

He gets up when he senses the end of the phone call and quietly leaves the bathroom, phone in one and the now almost empty mug in the other hand. Max tiptoes past his father's bedroom and carefully presses the handle of the door down with his elbow. He leans against the wooden door to open it, slips inside as soon as the gap is big enough for him to fit through it and throws his phone on his bed before he places the mug on his desk.

His mother comes into his room later when he's just finished recording a voice message for Daniel. He spent the past five minutes rambling about the millions of thoughts crowding his brain and the tiny last seen at turns into online underneath the mess of numbers where a name should be right as the door of his bedroom clicks open. 

Max's shoulders tense and his entire attention lands on the movement behind the door while his grip tightens around the phone and his heartbeat picks up speed. The footsteps are light on the floor, bare feet against hardwood and he releases air he didn't realize he was holding. His mom smiles at him when she sits down next to him and the mattress dips under their combined weight. It's quiet in the room and they simply sit next to each other in silence for a while.

“I love you honey”, his mom says and Max sighs against her shoulder when she wraps one arm around him and kisses his temple. His phone vibrates between his fingers but he decides that this is more important than Daniel's messages at the moment, so he snuggles closer to his mom and thinks about how weird it is that he hasn't done that in a long time. Because he has Daniel to hug him now.

But Daniel is not his mom and it's a different kind of safe he feels in her arms. 

“I love you too, mom”, he mumbles and feels five years old for a moment. They fall quiet again and it feels comfortable. For the first time in a long time, he feels comfortable at home without Daniel being there. 

“I'm so proud of you. I am so lucky to have you, baby.”

His heart breaks a little at the weak tone of his mom's voice as he nods, his head still leaning against her shoulder. He gets lost in his thoughts, his mind wandering back to memories he would rather get rid of. Max tries to find the right words, which is really not something he's good at, searches in every corner of his brain to find a way to offer his mom some comfort. His mom, who loves him despite him ruining her life and probably her mental health.

“You are the best mom in the world. I'm being honest, you're the definition of a cool mom. Even Dan says that you're the coolest and his mother is pretty cool as well.”

His mother laughs and wipes her tears away. Max didn't realize that she has been crying. He feels bad but then his mom runs her fingers through his hair and he doesn't protest. Usually, he hates it when people mess up his hair, especially when Daniel does it, claiming to have an obsession with his soft hair, but he endures it for his mom. 

“I'm glad to be your cool mom then. Trust me, out of all my bad decisions you were the best”, she replies with a tired chuckle and Max snorts, rolling his eyes and finally managing to smile for the first time that day since he arrived from school. 

“Alright, I'll let you go to sleep now. Text Daniel, else he might worry that you somehow died.”

Max falls back on the mattress when the door closes behind his mom and sighs, letting all the worries and the stress go for a while. He mentally prepares for the awkward breakfast the following day and he's close to circling back to the phone call from earlier-

His phone vibrates and he has 20 unread messages.

The last one is simply a blue heart and Max's stomach flutters. He smiles and for a second it feels like everything will be okay.

**Author's Note:**

> Some more minor notes, mainly to explain the entire phone situation.
> 
> The idea of saving someone's number with their phone number as the contact name came from a friend of mine who also did this to hide a relationship. I don't have an explanation as to why they did that but it's actually kind of smart and seemed to fit the situation here.
> 
> The Snapchat name basically just indicates the grade Daniel is in to also not raise any suspicion. I have classmates who literally set contact names to the full name or first name and class number. Since I didn't really put any indication or thought into where exactly this story is set, I just put it as Y11 or year 11 or grade 11. It's all a little formal but you never know who might read messages on your lock screen, right?
> 
> The name James has no particular background, at least none that anyone would understand really. I don't want to bore you with my real-life stories too much haha
> 
> The detail about the mom and father situation is, well, easy to explain because I find myself guilty of saying that too (in my native language I usually address my parents as mother and father though, I'm not that cool). Everyone can be a father but not everyone can be a good dad for their children.
> 
> Once again, thank you so much for reading this to the end and giving this a chance. Feedback is always appreciated :)
> 
> You can find me on [Tumblr](https://komkommertijd.tumblr.com/) in case you want to talk to me (I have no friends so feel free to annoy me) or scream at me, for whatever reason, or simply to keep up with some sneak peeks and my usual rambling.


End file.
